


Country Roads, Take Me Home

by InkgooSupernova



Series: The Winter System [49]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Play, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes has DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kid Bucky Barnes, Non-Sexual Age Play, Other, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26138776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkgooSupernova/pseuds/InkgooSupernova
Summary: “If you’d shut your fucking trap and let me focus then maybe we wont!” The Commander barked from the driver’s seat. He could see that his knuckles were white as paper as he gripped the steering wheel.He whimpered as the van cut another hard turn, sending him tumbling into the side wall. His ears had been popping ever since they entered the state and his head felt like someone filled it with air. Everything hurt and he was scared and he didn’t want tobehere.
Series: The Winter System [49]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693231
Comments: 20
Kudos: 60





	Country Roads, Take Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> This story is pre-series and is loosely based on personal experiences.
> 
> The title is from the song [Country Roads by John Denver](%E2%80%9C).

He didn’t mean to come out.

He _really_ didn’t.

But he was so cold and wet from the snow soaking into his armor during the mission and the mountain roads were winding and he felt like his tummy was tangled up in a million knots.

“Jesus fucking Christ I can’t see _shit!_ ” The Commander’s voice huffed as the van wound down another turn. It felt like every inch of the road was crooked and curved.

“Then can you at least slow down?!” Agent Murphy whined, clinging to what the Commander called the ‘oh shit stick’ above the door for dear life. He didn’t think any of them actually knew what that little handle was really called. “I don’t want to die falling off a goddamn mountain!”

“You wouldn’t die from falling, you’d die from landing.” Agent Mercer huffed, not taking her eyes off of the phone. How was she not getting car sick? The Soldier _always_ felt car sick trying to read mission statements and instructions in the van. He could vaguely remember getting in trouble for puking in another van with a different team.

“Point being-“

“If you’d shut your fucking trap and let me focus then maybe we wont!” The Commander barked from the driver’s seat. He could see that his knuckles were white as paper as he gripped the steering wheel.

He whimpered as the van cut another hard turn, sending him tumbling into the side wall. His ears had been popping ever since they entered the state and his head felt like someone filled it with air. Everything hurt and he was scared and he didn’t want to _be_ here.

“Can someone get the Soldier’s muzzle off? If he pukes I don’t want to clean it out of those damn air holes again.” Agent Westfahl grumbled.

“You fucking do it yourself, then!”  
Agent Rollins snapped from the passenger seat. “And since when have you ever cleaned up after him? You always leave me to do it!”

“Hey, I cleaned him up after Pierce’s birthday back in-“

“That doesn’t count. I was helping you.” Agent Mercer pointed out, still not looking up from her phone.

“Cynthia can you have my back for _once?!_ ” Agent Westfahl huffed, tossing his arms up in the air.

“Can you shut your mouth before I tell the Soldier to rearrange your teeth?!” The Commander barked. “ _Shit!_ ” He yelped as the van banked right, making a sharp turn that left them all groaning.

“But I’m serious, he’s looking green around the gills. Someone get it off.” Agent Westfahl continued. For once, he agreed with him. The Soldier’s muzzle felt far too tight and he felt like he could barely breathe as it is.

“Uhg, _fine._ Since you’re such a fucking pussy.” Agent Rollins huffed. “Soldier. Over here.”

He did his best to obey, standing up on wobbly legs as the van swerved onto another hard turn. He whimpered,the sudden movement nearly knocking him off his feet. He clung to the back of the agent’s chair for dear life.

“Alright, don’t bite me.” Agent Rollins huffed as he reached behind his head, unclasping the straps under his hair. “There, hold onto this.” He ordered.

“Mhh...” He whimpered, clinging to the chair just a little tighter. He didn’t want to move away from the agent.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me-“ The Commander growled, low like a breath.

“Kid, get out of here.” Agent Rollins ordered in a hushed whisper. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I _know,_ ‘m _sorry!_ ” He hissed out quietly, tucking his head against the chair. He wanted nothing more than to leave, to let the Soldier handle the uncomfortable twist in his guts and the paralyzing fear of driving on such dangerous roads.

But the Soldier disappeared, probably fell asleep from the cold clinging to his armor, leaving him in his wake to fend for himself.

He was scared.

“Alright, alright, here.” Agent Rollins huffed, pulling him by the arm. “You can sit on my lap, okay? Will that help you feel better?”

“Don’ wanna play righ’ now...” He whimpered, earning a haunted and disgusted look from the two men.

“No, no not-“ Agent Rollins sighed, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand. “We’re not _playing_ anything. You can just sit on my lap until we get there to help calm down.”

He carefully stepped between the two seats, struggling to sit chest to chest with the agent. When he finally settled, chin resting on the man’s shoulder, he felt two arms wrap around his back.

For the first time since that mission began, he felt a shred of comfort.

“Jesus, Rollins.” Agent Westfahl huffed. “Do you need to coddle him like that? He’s not a human and he’s not a baby!”

“Well, most social mammals seek comfort from others when stressed, and he _is_ running on mammalian hardware.” Agent Murphy corrected.

“He’s trained better than that.” Agent Westfahl huffed.

“I don’t recall you saying that when he was humping your leg for the two hour trek back in-“ Agent Mercer was cut off.

“That’s different!” Agent Westfahl snapped.

“WOULD ALL OF YOU SHUT UP AND LET ME DRIVE?! _FOR FUCK SAKE!_ ” The Commander barked, making them all jump.

He whimpered as he buried his face into Agent Rollin’s shoulder, hearing the man quietly shushing him as a hand pat his back gently.

“It’s okay, kid. We’ll be to the safe house soon enough.” Agent Rollins whispered.

“You’re gonna make him soft, Jack.” Agent Westfahl huffed. “What would the Secretary say if-“

“Pierce isn’t to know about this. If any of you tell him he was acting like this out on the field, we’re _all_ dead. You got that?” The Commander growled.

“Oh my god, you’re treating him like a baby behind Pierce’s back? I’m so-“

“Pierce _programmed_ this, you idiot!” The Commander barked. “If he finds out anyone else knows about this program, we’re all on the chopping block! Get that through your thick skull and LET ME FUCKING _DRIVE!_ ”

The van was silent.

He whimpered as the deafening thrum of wheels on unkempt roads clawed against his aching ears, earning a quiet hush from the agent.

“Why the hell did Pierce program him to act like that?” Agent Westfahl was the first to break the silence, like always.

“I’ll give you one good guess.” Agent Rollins huffed. “Here’s a hint, it wasn’t for missions, and it wasn’t for parental training programs.”

“Jesus christ, he-“

“Yes, Pierce is a sick old man with pedophilic fantasies! Now shut up before I drive this van into the fucking mountain side!” The Commander barked.

“‘m sorry...” He whimpered quietly, clinging just a little tighter to the man’s chest.

“Shh, it’s not your fault. Just calm down, okay?” Agent Rollins whispered. “Do you want some water?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to put _anything_ in his mouth right now.

“Alright, just stay calm, we’re almost there. Just another ten minutes, okay?” Agent Rollins said, rubbing his hand up and down his back.

“That’s so fucked up...” Agent Westfahl whispered in the back seat. “That is _so_ fucked up.”

“Whining about it isn’t going to change it. Now zip it.” Agent Rollins huffed.

After another ten minutes of teeth grinding and stomach rolling, the van finally banked down into a hairpin turn that lead them down a steep driveway, pulling up to the promised safe house. He was about to climb off of the man’s lap before he felt the two arms tightening around him, lifting him up as the man stepped out of the van. He clung to his chest for dear life, arms wrapped around his neck, as he was carried into the house. He could barely see, the mountains in the cloudy darkness of midnight blocking out most light.

“Wait, so-“ Agent Westfahl began speaking as he was carried towards the bathroom. He didn’t hear the rest, far too tired from the excitement of the day.

“There we go, just stay right there.” Agent Rollins set him down on top of the closed toilet seat lid as he started the water in the bathtub. “Do you need help with your clothes?”

He shook his head, carefully unclasping the armor and restraints across his body and slipping his underclothes off above his head, stripping himself down to just his protective padding that had been soaked with an uncomfortable mix of pee and melted snow for the past six hours. He held the pile of wet clothes and armor on his lap, hoping the agent wouldn’t yell at him or call him disgusting.

“There you go, here, I’ll take those.” Agent Rollins took the pile of wet fabric and set them in the sink. “Can you get out of that yourself, or do you need help?”

“Uhm...” He whimpered. He wasn’t sure if he could without tearing the padding and making a mess. His hands were shaking from the cold air nipping at his wet, chilled skin.

“If you need help, it’s alright to ask.” Agent Rollins said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I-I don’ wan’to play...” He whimpered. He knew it was bad to whine and not say thank you properly to the people that were helping him. But his tummy was still rolling and he was still cold and wet from the mission and scared from the drive.

“We’re not going to play anything, I already told you that.” Agent Rollins huffed. “You can’t get into the bath with that on, and you can’t get clean without a bath. I’m not going to touch you, but if you need help taking it off, I’m right here.”

He sat in thought, weighing his options as the man checked the water. “Promise I don’t ha’ffo play grown up games?”

“I pinky promise, okay?” The agent held up his little finger on his left hand.

For some reason, he understood what he was supposed to do. He could remember making a pinky promise for someone to not go outside in the snow. He wasn’t sure why or who he did that with. He carefully wrapped the little finger of his flesh hand around the man’s own.

“Good, now here, stand up.” Agent Rollins ordered, helping him up off of the seat. He was shivering from the cold air and could barely hold himself upright, his tummy muscles pulling in on themselves for warmth. He screwed his eyes shut as the man’s fingers tucked into the waistband of his padding, carefully shuffling them down his legs. He gasped as the cold air nipped at his itchy, sensitive skin.

“‘S _cold._ ” He whimpered, wrapping his arms around himself tighter.

“I know, I know, here. Step up.” Agent Rollins carefully helped him step out of the padding on the floor. “There you go, good job. Now into the bath.”

He nodded, stepping into the bath and carefully sitting in the warm water. He sighed softly, his skin warming up from the water. “Mmmh.” He hummed, sinking into the water.

“That feels better, yeah?” Agent Rollins asked, earning a nod. “Good, I’ll give you some time to get cleaned up, alright?” With that, the agent stepped out of the bathroom, leaving him alone.

He let himself settle in the warmth, his knees sticking up out of the water. He could hear the team talking outside, though he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. He could barely keep his eyes open, the warmth seeping into his bones lulling him to sleep.

“Jesus kid, don’t scare me like that!” The Commander’s voice barked. He didn’t realized he had fallen asleep, groggy from the sudden voice. “You could’ve drowned or something!”

He whimpered as he sat up, letting the Commander help him out of the water. He took the towel he was handed, drying himself off to warm up in the chilled air. He already missed the warm water. He reached out, trying to hug the man.

“Kid, it’s alright.” The Commander sighed, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “Just get dressed, I put some sleep clothes on the sink for you.” With that, the man left. He quickly slipped into the loose shirt and sweatpants, following the man out to the safe house’s living room.

“There you go, feeling better?” Agent Rollins asked as he climbed next to him on the couch, tucking into his chest. He purred as a warm arm wrapped around his back, nuzzling his cheek against the man’s side.

“That’s the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen...” Agent Westfahl mumbled, staring at the two of them. He couldn’t help himself as he tucked his face into Agent Rollins’ chest, trying to hide from the judgmental glare.

“Fuck off, he can’t help it.” Agent Rollins huffed, the arm around his back tightening marginally.

“Be glad he isn’t trying to grind on your lap.” The Commander added. “And don’t you fucking _dare_ ask him to. If Pierce finds out anyone else knows about this or, god forbid, _used_ him like this, then you can bet your ass we’re all dead.”

“Jesus Brock, I’m not a pedophile.” Agent Westfahl argued.

“That’s where your morals lie?” Agent Mercer shot him an incredulous sneer.

“Regardless,” Agent Rollins intervened. “Pierce is not to find out about this. The most important thing is keeping the kid comfortable until the Soldier comes back.”

“And how exactly do we do that?” Agent Westfahl huffed. “I’d rather be stuck with the brain-dead weapon than this disgusting-“

“Pick your next word carefully, Westfahl.” The Commander growled.

“The last few times this happened, the Soldier came back after a night of rest, but the important thing is to keep the kid comfortable and calm. So no fighting and no yelling, got it?”

He was getting bored listening to the men talk, his metal thumb finding its way into his mouth as he snuggled into the man’s chest. He was already exhausted from the mission and just wanted to curl up and sleep. The warmth of the agent and commander surrounding him didn’t help that in the slightest.

“Hey, you sleepy?” Agent Rollins’ voice was soft, a hand gently shaking his shoulder. He could tell he had nearly fallen asleep by how groggy he felt, the soft whimper escaping his chest.

“Mhmm.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes with his flesh hand. He gasped a little as strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him off of the couch and carrying him somewhere. “‘S bedtime?”

“Yep, it’s bedtime, little guy.” Agent Rollins nodded. He couldn’t help the sudden dread filling his guts.

“No...” He began. “No _games_ tonight, right?”

“No games. None of us are ever going to play games like that with you, okay?” Agent Rollins explained as he laid him down on a pile of blankets on the floor. He already felt better, knowing he wouldn’t have to share a bed with any of the grown ups, even if the agent had already assured him that they weren’t going to play the scary games with him.

“Uh uh, ‘s only for Daddy.” He nodded, letting the man tuck him into the blankets.

“Yeah...” Agent Rollins sounded like he was going to be sick. “Yeah, only for Daddy. No one else.”

“Thank’yu.” He mumbled, unable to keep his eyes open a moment longer. He was far too tired, already snuggling into the warmth of his makeshift bed. He could feel a warm hand carefully stroking his shoulder, a soft rhythm that gently lulled him to sleep.


End file.
